


Scared, me?

by schrodingers_bee



Category: GLOW (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Baby Fic, F/M, Fictober 2019, brief mentions of miscarriage, including some Debbie and Sam bonding none of us knew we needed, introducing GLOW-BY, now a series of oneshots I guess??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-01 23:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20940083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schrodingers_bee/pseuds/schrodingers_bee
Summary: Sam and Ruth preparing for the new addition to their family...





	1. Scared, me?

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by the fabulous samchandler1986

Sam’s eyes squinted open, turning his head to Ruth— more accurately the Ruth-shaped space occupying her side of the bed.

There was once a time when his first thought on waking was;

Cigarette

Or

Shit

Or

Where the fuck am I?

Recently, more often than not, it’s Ruth.

Second thoughts of the morning, this morning in particular, was occupied by,

Who the fuck is throwing up?

“Ruth?” Sam groaned, sitting up slowly.

“I’m fine.” She croaked from the en-suite.

“Sure.” He retorted, unconvinced.

Appearing in the doorway, wearing one of Sam’s more tatty jumpers, Ruth smiled wearily and Sam’s stomach dropped. He’d been here before.

Not now, Sam.

Glancing momentarily at the sobriety token on the nightstand, he grimaced.

Avoiding his past often involved copious amounts of alcohol— among other things. Hopefully, he mused, he was creative enough to do so without.

“I must have eaten some—“

Blerrgghhhh.

Jolting into Good Boyfriend mode, a learning curve to say the least, he clambered out of bed and knelt beside her; holding her hair out of her face as she hugged the toilet bowl.

It only took a moment to realise his hands were shaking.

It’s not like the last times

It’s not like the last times

She’s just sick

It’s not like the last times

“Sam? Sam!”

“Hm?”

“You can let go of my hair now,” Ruth chuckled weakly, sitting upright, “I’m okay.”

“Right.” He murmured. Unable to look her in the eye, he marched to the kitchen, poured a glass of water and grabbed the bog standard nausea relief he always kept on top of the fridge.

Back upstairs, Ruth was sat at the end of the bed, watching the bathroom door as if she’d just locked a feral cat in there.

Passing the water and tablets to her at arms length. Ruth smiled nervously,

“Can you go into the bathroom, Sam?”

“Hm?”

“Please?”

Huffing, he obliged.

Scanning the room, his eyes fell on a box lying by the sink.

ADVANCE PREGNANCY TEST

Leaning against the already fragile shower screen, Sam sank to the ground, head hung between his knees.

Ruth’s voice choked out above him,

“The test— I couldn’t do it alone this time— I couldn’t.”

Looking up, tears brimming in both their eyes, Sam stammered,

“Ruth— Ruth that’s not— it’s not— fuck.”

Reaching for her hand, he pulled Ruth down next to him, wrapping his arm around her.

“Carolyn and—“

“Your ex-wife?”

“Mhm —and I, we tried, a few times, you know. But each time, it never lasted. The longest was six months, I think. And I— I just remember waking up, each time, to hear her throw up and it fucking killed me each time because I knew how it would end.”

“Oh god Sam—“

“No- no, it’s not you— fuck —“ Sam rubbed his stubble nervously, “— it just brought it all back you know.”

Taking his hand, wiping away her tears with the other, Ruth smiled softly,

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Sam muttered, wondering what part of shitting on what should have been a pretty fucking amazing, if slightly surprising, moment, he deserved thanks for.

“For telling me.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t share much about you life. I’m glad you told me.”

“I’m sorry Ruth.” Shaking his head, “I love you. And I love our kid.” Grinning fondly, in a way Ruth’s only see him do a few times, “Fucking hell, our kid.”

Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her madly as she laughed.

“Sam, Sam,” she giggled, “we haven’t actually done the test yet, you idiot!”

“Shut up.” He moaned, against her neck.

Pushing him away gently, she whispered,

“Will you do it with me, though?”

“Well I not sure how useful my piss will be.”

“Sam.” She chided softly.

“Of course.”

Sam had no idea pregnancy tests were so fucking convoluted. However he also had no idea that he’d spend his morning bickering over a tray of piss with the potential future mother of his second child.

Sat back down against the shower screen, their hands entwined between them, Ruth lay her head on Sam’s shoulder.

“Any names in mind?”

“Sam?”

“No.”

“Samantha?”

She snorted.

“Alright, Strindberg, got any ideas?”

Ruth smirked, “How about Strindberg?”

“Ha ha.”

She gasped, “How about August?”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.” She laughed, “it’s got meaning and it works for a girl or a boy.”

“Mhm.” He scoffed, unconvinced.

“Well, I like it.” She smiled, falling silent.

Turning to see her eyes flick to and from the chemistry set by the sink, Sam squeezed her hand.

“Scared?”

**“Scared, me?”** Switching to Zoya, “In Soviet Union, pregnancy means one thing; new comrade in fight against weak capitalist pigs like yourself.”

Sam chuckled, having never felt braver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy this little insight into Sam and Ruth's domestic life! I'm currently toying with the idea of making this into a multi-chapter fic; I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	2. Late

Ruth Wilder is either early or on time. There is no late. Never.

Sam Sylvia on the other hand, is late.

To everything. 

That’s the thing about directors, their world quite literally revolves around them, a power they can use for good or for evil; but mostly hangovers. 

Actresses on the other hand, count their lucky stars every time a casting director pauses over their headshot. 

When people told them that a baby changed everything, Sam never imagined that it would switch their time-keeping on its heads like Freaky fucking Friday. 

“Where is fuck is she?” Debbie huffed, swapping her phone lazily between hands. 

“Got a better offer somewhere else?” His last strands of patience waning, having spent the last fifteen minutes pacing outside a community centre turned birthing class without a Ruth in sight.

Debbie scowled.

Sam cringed, “Sorry.” He huffed. 

“Mhm.” 

Funny what an affair and a broken ankle will do for a friendship. Debbie had been to almost every appointment, class and check up in place of or along side Sam since the GLOW-BY (Carmen’s nickname that tragically took flight) announced its imminent arrival in the form of a high school chemistry kit. 

Not that Sam was complaining. His favourite part of every new class Ruth signed them up for was watching the teacher try to figure out their  _ arrangement _ without being offensive. 

So far they had received five polygamous’, four lesbian-couple-with-sperm-donor, two straight-couple-with-surrogate and only one person guessing correctly; who,  completely incidentally, ended up being Ruth’s favourite class. 

No one really had to say why they continued to endure the perplexed stares of a dizzying array of teachers and gurus and whatever the fuck they were called. 

Debbie and Ruth had missed each other. Desperately. Each having mourned a friendship they weren’t sure they could live without, yet not entirely sure they could continue to live with. Eventually they had found it revived; different, stronger, more robust than before. 

They were really just making up for lost time. 

Who was Sam to argue with that?

“The class is about to begin.” The birthing coach announced airily, far too relaxed to be tolerated by two Hollywoods currently missing a 6 month pregnant wife/friend. 

“She’s still not here.” Debbie pointed out, as if she had somehow failed to notice. 

“You know... you could step in so that dad here could relay the techniques to mom?”

Sam looked at Debbie with a mixture of abject horror and ‘ _ it was really fucking expensive _ ’.

“Fuck.” Debbie hissed, having regretted opening her mouth in the first place. 

When Ruth finally did arrive, frazzled after trying to demonstrate a suplex to some of the newer cast of GLOW 2.0 with the equivalent of a small watermelon strapped to her middle, she saw something that made it completely worth it.

Debbie, sat between Sam’s legs, being guided through breathing exercises which, to all the heavily pregnant moms in the circle, seemed rather presumptuous or at least just  very in advance of her due date. 

Feeling the baby kick, she nodded in agreement.

“I think Daddy and Auntie Deb have this in hand, don’t you?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you’ve enjoyed my second instalment into Sam and Ruth’s pregnancy! Who knows? Maybe there’s more to come...
> 
> All kudos and comments are gladly received!!


	3. Hospital

“Where the fuck is she?” 

Sam hadn’t felt this worse since his heart said  fuck it.

“Room 12.” Justine replied, rising from her seat, in a softer voice than he’d ever heard her speak in. 

Debbie was holding her hand as Ruth smiled weakly; Sam would have noted the contrast from the last time Ruth was lying in a hospital if he wasn’t more terrified than he’d ever been in his life.

“What happened?”

“Sam...”

“Christ Ruth, what’s going on, they said you had an accident, I - I-“

I thought we lost it.

“Debbie.” Ruth murmured, eyeing the door.

“Don’t give her a hard time.” Debbie murmured on her way out. 

_Funny, that._

“Ruth please...”

She sniffled, “I wanted to get into the ring.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I wanted to climb into that  _fucking_ ring without Carmen having to hoist me up.”

“You endangered your life and the baby’s to prove a point?”

She scoffed, “Please! The lengths you’ll go to prove a point are unchallenged! And I did not endanger our lives; I fell a metre at most and Debbie found me a minute later!”

“You were alone? Jesus fucking Christ Ruth!” Running his hands through his hair furiously.

“I feel useless Sam. I can’t wrestle; I can hardly direct without needing to pee every three seconds; I feel like I’m putting the girls in danger every time I tell them to do a move I haven’t tried myself; when I’m pitching ideas in meetings all anyone can see is my bump; I can’t even reach my fucking shoes.”

She wipes away her brimming tears with an already used tissue.

_Don’t give her a hard time._

_Fuck._

“Ruth, I’m—“

“No, Sam, I was selfish. I didn’t think.”

“No you weren’t. Fucking hell Ruth, I’ve treated you like a china doll for months now. You had every right to be frustrated.”

“I’d just like to do one thing that I used to.”

“Like what?”

“A suplex.” She smiled dreamily.

Sam flinched.

“Pee in regular intervals.”

“You’re going to have to talk to baby on that one.”

“Chores.”

“Like the doing the washing up?” 

“Honestly, at this point, yes please!” She scoffed. 

“Deal. Just no more Die Hard shit, okay?”

“Yes, I’m sure our hot pink wrestling ring is the spitting image of Nakatomi Plaza.”

“Shut up.” He smirked, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, wrapping his arm around her.

“What did the doctors say?”

“We’re both fine, baby wasn’t hurt.”

“Of course they’re fine, their mother’s a wrestler.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The washing up line is a little inside joke with @evanberries ;)
> 
> (Thanks to @samchandler1986 for reading over the chapter)


	4. The Name Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot I had this stashed away— but given everything that’s going on I figured that I’d keep the GLOW spirit going. It is a rather dialogue heavy chapter but I think it’s cute all the same!

“We really are going to have to start thinking about names, aren’t we?” Ruth groaned, lying in bed, rubbing her middle which had recently graduated from being a small watermelon to being a full on beach ball.

“I’m assuming Sam is still off the table?” Sam smirked, getting in beside her.

“Yes.” She huffed, failing to see the humour. “So’s Samantha, Sammy, Samuel, Seamus and Samuela.”

“Seamus?” An eyebrow theatrically raised. 

“Shut up.” She groaned, rubbing her eyes.

“No, no, you’re right.”

“Excuse me?”

“C’mon, don’t make me say it again.”

Ruth smirked slightly, turning on her side to face Sam, 

“Say it again.”

“If you can get out of bed without having to pee I’ll never contradict you again.”

“Very funny.” Ruth huffed, although already feeling the urge to go (or waddle) to the bathroom. 

“And you can have naming rights.”

“You’re mean.” 

“I’m not,” He laughed, “it’s a genuine offer!”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“Sometimes.”

“But not enough to consider Samantha?”

“I’m going to sit on you if you’re not careful.”

“I’d like to see you try.” He grinned. 

She paused, then sighed.

“So would I.”

“Hey, c’mon let’s talk names.”

“Really?” Ruth smiled sceptically.

“Yeah, any family names?”

“Yeah but they’re all a bit outdated and we’ve had the same five names in our family for as long as I can remember. What about your family?”

He flinched, “There aren’t that many names in my family that I want remembered in our kid.”

“Ah.” Sam was never keen on talking about his family, so Ruth let it be.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” she mused, “that this baby can be a fresh start.” 

“Yeah.” He smiled softly, “Do you still like August?”

“Yeah, do you?”

“Eh.”

“Very funny.”

“How about Aurora?”

“Huh.” Ruth smiled.

“What, it’s Sicilian!”

“No, it’s beautiful.”

“Okay.” He smiled, pleased to have gotten something right for a change, “What about a boy’s name?”

“It’s a girl.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do,” She grinned, rubbing her ever expanding middle, “I can feel it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I love your comments (good or bad) and a humble kudos would make my day! 
> 
> Also what do you think the GLOW-BY should be called? August, Aurora or something completely different?


End file.
